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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25155607">Yuletide at Corvo Bianco</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozaMoza/pseuds/LozaMoza'>LozaMoza</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moments [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dandelion/Jaskier means well, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer of Vengerberg are Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon's Parents, Holidays, Lots of alcohol, M/M, Old Friends, One Big Happy Family, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yennefer and Ciri to the rescue, and so in love, because Geralt and Yennefer, but hes also an idiot, like so much of it, not in this piece, possible jailtime, though Geralt is the bigger one for listening to him, wheres the angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:02:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25155607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozaMoza/pseuds/LozaMoza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt and Yennefer host a Yule party for all their friends at Corvo Bianco. </p><p>Hilarity and possible jail-time ensues, along with the most tooth-rotting fluff ever. If you want a Witcher piece that's as warm and fuzzy as sitting in front of a fireplace with hot chocolate, fuzzy slippers, and a corgi in your lap, this is for you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dettlaff van der Eretein/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Philippa Eilhart/Triss Merigold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moments [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Old Friends are Best Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a multi-chapter piece, so I promise to continue. Pinky Promise</p><p>Also, fluff Geralt and Yen are cute.</p><p>Prompt by MichiMe...I made it extra fluffy for you, friend!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He stared at himself in the looking glass a bit longer, admiring the reflection staring back at him. If he had taken a moment to reflect, he would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He, Geralt of Rivia, the famous White Wolf, enjoying the fine weave of the black and silver doublet he had made in Beauclair two weeks prior? It was ludicrous. Inconceivable. But, here he was, admiring away. </p><p>Luckily, he also had someone to remind him of that.</p><p>“My, my,” she laughed softly as she sauntered up behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist. “How things have changed. It seems like not that long ago you were the one moaning endlessly about doublets and their uncomfortable fit. Now you’re simply enjoying the view.” She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Not that I blame you, darling. You do look quite dashing.”</p><p>He turned to face her, encircling her waist with his hands. “Well, real estate changes a man,” he smirked back.</p><p>She smacked him softly, her face a mask of false offense. “To say nothing of marriage, Geralt?!”</p><p>“Eh, maybe that had a small part to play,” he smiled as his hands traveled to her sides. He leaned in to kiss the downy skin of her neck, smelling her perfume. Lilac and Gooseberries. His most favorite smell in the world. Some nights he would wake up, terrified and drenched in sweat, thinking all of this had been some sort of cruel dream. That he would wake up alone on the Path and need to live with the agony that he had once felt something as true and beautiful as the dream of his life in Toussiant with Yennefer. But she would be there, next to him, rubbing his chest softly and telling him it’s alright, it’s all real, that they earned this together. He would pull her to him, holding her close against his chest, until he was sure she wasn’t some sort of apparition. His subconscious wish. </p><p>But she wasn’t. She was real and she was <em>his</em>. They were<em> each other’s</em>.</p><p>She smiled. “Don’t make me revert to my old stand-by of reading your thoughts, Witcher. Tell me what you’re thinking.”</p><p>“Witchers aren’t supposed to get this. They’re not supposed to get this kind of perfect,” he sighed as he whispered against her neck.</p><p>She cupped her hands on his cheeks and drew his face to hers. She looked him directly in the eyes. “Perhaps not witchers, but what about two people in love?” she said with a smile.</p><p>He pulled her lips to his and kissed her fiercely, confirming once more that she was in his arms in their home together. “Yes, I could see that,” he said as they pulled apart for a moment. He lifted her and carried her to their bed, each of them as desperate for each other as they were the first time they made love, moreso even, because now it was with the assurance that comes with time and knowledge, pain and pleasure, fear and hope and endless longing, to finally reach a hard-fought for ending of peace and love. Every time Geralt and Yennefer made love, they celebrated their journey together, and because of that, they truly did stop time around them, if only for a moment. </p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>“What time is everyone arriving?” he said contentedly as he stroked her naked back. </p><p>“Mmmm, I don’t know, and right now I don’t care.” she replied. “That thing you did, with your mouth, that was exquisite and we need to try that again, immediately.” She straddled him, leaning over him so her breasts teased his lips. “Will you indulge me?”</p><p>He pulled her into him, ready to indulge her another round and more if she desired, when a knock broke into their passions.</p><p>“Ahem, pardon my disturbance, Master Witcher and Lady Yennefer, but your guests have begun to arrive and, well, they are very persistent in their requests for your presence…” Barnabas Basil’s soft voice, clearly uncomfortable at interrupting the two, came from behind the door.</p><p>“Hey Geralt! Pull your cock out and come down here to greet your brothers like a proper fucking homeowner!” </p><p>Yennefer groaned. “You invited Lambert?”</p><p>“Got it, BB. Thanks.” Geralt groaned. He looked up at Yennefer, her tousled hair wild and beautiful, and he pulled her down for a quick kiss. “I know you love him. This tough act doesn’t fool me.” He gently lifted her off him, trying his best to ignore the uncomfortable erection she’d left him, and grabbed his pants. </p><p>“I should have turned him into that mouse in Kaer Morhen,” she muttered as she flipped over on her back, obviously frustrated. </p><p>“Dammit,” he cursed as he looked at his new doublet. In their haste, one of them must have ripped the seam. “It’s ripped. Look, the silver threading is unraveling. Fuck!”</p><p>Yennefer laughed out loud at that one and waved her hand. The thread rewove itself in an instant. “My husband, the fashion icon,” she teased.</p><p>“Oh shut up. How does it look?” He turned to her. Geralt didn’t spend time on the Path anymore. After he had trained Ciri, he had given up long nights on the road. He took an occasional contract in Toussaint, giant centipedes and archespores really were the scourge of the land, but he had no interest in camping away from his home for longer than a day or two, tops. Still, he kept himself in shape with daily swordplay and exercise in the training yard he had added to their estate of Corvo Bianco. His muscles were still toned, his shoulders broad and strong, and he had the added benefit of not being a meal away from starvation thanks to Marlene’s due diligence. He knew he cut a nice figure, and from the look in Yennefer’s eyes, she was thinking the same thing.</p><p>“Just go before I pull you back in bed with me,” she moaned. He turned to leave but she grabbed his hand and pulled him to her lips for a long kiss. His hands brushed her breasts and he groaned. “You owe me, Witcher,” she whispered against his mouth. “And I have every intention of collecting. Now go, before Lambert gets too jealous and starts making eyes at Marlene.”</p><p>He laughed again and started to walk out, turning one more time to look at her, naked and stunning, the light from the early evening filtering in through the window she had insisted they install to leave her skin shining gold. “Fuck I love you,” he said, dumbstruck by her.</p><p>“And I love you, Geralt. Now go, I’ll be ready soon.” She smiled and gave him a slight wink, then stood up and walked to their bath. He watched her go, lost in her for a moment, before he turned to meet his brothers.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>“Happy Fucking Yule, Geralt!” Lambert cried out as he lifted his mug of ale to him. Eskel laughed and did the same.</p><p>“Happy Yule, Wolf,” Eskel said as he wiped his mouth.</p><p>Geralt smiled and sat down across from them, pouring a mug of ale himself, grateful for the massive table he had built for the place. It was heaped with food and drink, though considering the number of people that should be arriving, he wasn’t sure that would be enough.</p><p>“I see you helped yourself to my ale,” Geralt laughed.</p><p>“Of course we did. If the master of the house is going to be too damn busy to greet his brothers at the door, you better believe we will take his ale.” Lambert sniffed. “You smell like sex. You could have at least cleaned yourself off first.”</p><p>“Do you have any idea how many times a day I’d have to bathe to stop smelling like sex? I’d live in the bath, and even then…”</p><p>“We get it, we get it. You’re always getting laid. Congratu-fucking-lations.” groaned Lambert. Eskel just laughed at him.</p><p>“You asked, Lambert.” Eskel chided jokingly. “Geralt, this place is incredible. Everytime I’m here it’s like you’ve added a wing or something. How the hell did you get this again?”</p><p>“Payment for a contract from Her Enlightened Ladyship, Duchess Anna Henrietta. To tell you the truth, it was a run down husk of a house when I got it. Luckily it came with Barnabas Basil and he helped me fix it up. Then of course Yen moved in and we fixed it up again. BB loved that. That’s also why it keeps growing,” he laughed. “But at least we have more room for guests.”</p><p>“Speaking of guests, where is our little Witcher Girl? She gonna be here for Yule?” Lambert asked.</p><p>“Think Yen would let her miss out on that? She’ll be here. She’s riding in today, and fuck I can’t wait to see her.”</p><p>“I can’t believe she’s on the Path…” Eskel muttered. “‘Member when she killed her first rat? Thing was huge and disgusting and she was so proud she hung it on the wall of that little room she stayed in at Kaer Morhen.”</p><p>“Remember her on the Gauntlet? She was a crazed little monkey on that thing, jumping this way and that. The bruises she would get…” Geralt laughed. </p><p>“And Vesemir, constantly hounding that bestiary into her. ‘This is the difference between ghouls and aghouls, Ciri. Now pay attention,’” Lambert took on Vesemir’s old tone, but the sound of it sent a malaise of sorrow over the group. “Fuck I miss the old man.”</p><p>“Kaer Morhen was never the same without him. He was the soul of that place. It was just too hard to stay there without him,” Eskel sighed.</p><p>Geralt lifted his mug. “To Vesemir,” he said with a smile. </p><p>“To Vesemir,” the others responded. They all drank to his memory, and the memory of the Keep that had been their home from the Path for so long.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>It was Barnabas who broke their revelry again. “More guests have arrived, Master Witcher.” Walking in behind him came Triss Merigold and Philippa Eilhart.</p><p>“Witcher,” Philippa sneered. “I just love this adorable hovel you have here. Yenna really has gone out of her way.” Geralt rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Ah fuck more witches? Isn’t Yennefer enough?” whined Lambert.</p><p>“Hello, Geralt,” Triss said as she reached over and gave Geralt a hug. “Your home looks lovely.” Geralt smiled, happy to see Triss doing well. She looked beautiful in her slim-cut dark green dress with gold threading on the bottom. She still wore her hair in her trademark buns, but the style suited her.</p><p>“Hey Triss, good to see you. Although, your plus one...really?” Geralt muttered.</p><p>“Oh stop Geralt, you know what Phil means to me. Although I agree, she COULD stand to be a bit nicer.” It was Philippa’s turn to roll her eyes. “Where’s Yenna?”</p><p>“Still getting ready. She should be down shortly.” Geralt responded.</p><p>“You know Yenna, Triss. Always needs to make her entrance.” Philippa crossed her arms over her chest. Geralt couldn’t argue that. “You’re that witcher Kiera Metz was seeing for a while, aren’t you?” Lambert cursed and looked away. “I thought so,” she smirked. </p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lambert grumbled.</p><p>Geralt eyed him wearily and looked over to Eskel. “Sore subject,” Eskel said quietly. </p><p>“Please tell me you have proper wine,” Philippa interrupted.</p><p>Geralt perked up. He had a surprise for all his guests. “Actually, yes, I have something new I want everyone to…” but he couldn’t finish, because at that moment Yennefer walked down the stairs.</p><p>She was wearing a gown he had never seen before, and it moved like liquid on her. It was silver, turning to black at the bottom hem, and it sparkled as if small diamonds had been sewn into it. It was sleeveless, and she wore her hair long and loose, her ever-present diamond choker shining on it’s velvet band. He swallowed.</p><p>“Hello, everyone.” She said as she walked up to Geralt. He immediately pulled her to his side. “Happy Yule.”</p><p>“Happy Yule, Yenna,” Triss said as she went in for a hug. </p><p>“Yenna,” Philippa smirked.</p><p>“Yennefer,” Lambert muttered, his eyes still rooming her figure.</p><p>Eskel stood up and hugged her. “Happy Yule, Yennefer.”</p><p>“Happy Yule, Yen,” Geralt smiled as he tilted her head to kiss her softly on the lips. </p><p>“Happy Yule, Darling.” she smiled back. </p><p>“Ugh, must you?” Philippa moaned.</p><p>“I agree with the witch on this one. We’re trying to drink here.” Lambert groaned. Geralt ignored them both.</p><p>“Is Ciri here yet?” she asked, looking around the room.</p><p>“Not yet,” Geralt replied as he tucked a curl behind her ear. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”</p><p>“More guests are arriving…,” BB began, but Dandelion cut him off.</p><p>“Like I need any introduction!” He yelled out as he strummed a cord. “Hello, Geralt! Hello, Yennefer! Hello, all you marvelous lads and lasses!”</p><p>“You invited the damn bard?” Philippa groaned once more as she grabbed a drink.</p><p>“The witch!” Dandelion yelped. “I liked you better as an owl, woman!”</p><p>“‘Cept that time she got the damn shits. The mess she made....” Zoltan laughed as he walked in. “‘Ey Geralt, Yennefer. Happy Yule!”</p><p>“Keep that dwarf away from me,” Philippa stated. Yennefer and Triss just laughed at that.</p><p>“My sincerest apologies, Geralt,” Regis bowed slightly as he walked in, Detlaff following behind. “We waited at the door but your man seemed to be slightly out-of-sorts. I do hope you do not mind that we let ourselves in.”</p><p>“Regis?!” Zoltan yelled. “Fucking <em>REGIS</em>!” Zoltan clapped the vampire’s back.</p><p>“Hello, old friend,” Regis smiled. “I am so glad to see you are in fine health. Geralt, Yennefer.” He nodded to them both.</p><p>Yennefer went over to hug Regis. The two had become close, and she quite enjoyed his company. Geralt wasn’t surprised; he had always suspected they would get along well. She walked back to Geralt and took his hand, entwining her fingers with his. </p><p>“Welcome, everyone, to Corvo Bianco.”</p><p>
  <strong>TBC</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Blind Taste Test</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Taste test between Lambert's hooch and Regis' Mandrake Root distillate? Absolutely.</p><p>Also, totally my headcanon, but imagine how hard it must be for poor BB. How many times must he have to avert his eyes trying to deal with working in a home with Geralt and Yennefer? I love you, BB.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The fluff continues...</p><p>And Gwent</p><p>And Elderberries</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Yennefer</strong>
</p><p>The ale, the guests were happy to learn, was flowing freely that Yule. Yennefer had prepared well in advance, knowing the lushes that their extended family turned into whenever free alcohol was offered. They did not disappoint.</p><p>Surveying the scene, she smiled as she brought her glass of wine to her lips. Looking back on her and Geralt’s journey together, she still could not believe it ended here, in Corvo Bianco, currently surrounded by friends, while their daughter had the freedom to pursue her own dreams without someone tailing behind her, looking to use her for their own purposes. It was not the ending she had expected for them. Theirs had always seemed a family destined for joy to walk hand-in-hand with heartache, and for far too long, it was. But here, in the golden sun and vanilla skies of Touissant, their ending could be the dream both her and Geralt had always wanted: them, together, as a family. <em>That deserves a toast</em>, she thought, and she caught Geralt’s eye and lifted her glass slightly to him before drinking the sweet wine. He smiled at her and winked before he turned back to Lambert and Regis. </p><p>
  <strong>Geralt</strong>
</p><p>“FUCKING SPIES!!!!!!” Zoltan screamed as he threw down the rest of his cards in rage. “FUCKING NILFGAARDIAN SPIES!!”</p><p>Geralt laughed. “I warned you that BB was an excellent Gwent player, but would you listen?”</p><p>“Shut up, Geralt,” Zoltan boomed. “I don’t know what kind of butler you have…”</p><p>“Majordomo, Master Dwarf,” BB replied calmly as he picked up his cards and the crowns he had just won.</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>“My title and profession is a Majordomo, master of the household.”</p><p>“He’s right, Zoltan,” chided Geralt jokingly.</p><p>“Gods, Zoltan, how embarrassing,” Dandelion chimed in. </p><p>“Well ‘e kicked my ass!” Zoltan laughed. “That deserves a drink! Geralt, where the hell is that Mahakman mead I know you have?!”</p><p>BB stood. “I am happy to bring some up, Master Dwarf. Thank you again for an exciting round.” He left quickly to grab the mead from the cellar.</p><p>Geralt was half-heartedly listening to Lambert and Regis discuss the art of distilling their own spirits, but his gaze kept creeping back to Yennefer in her silver dress, currently chatting with Detlaff and Philippa. There were so many details he kept finding to focus on, like the way it dipped into her waist making her hips flair out in such an enticing way he wanted to grab her, take her upstairs, and…</p><p>“Right, Geralt?” Lambert questioned.</p><p>Jerked from his daydream, he reluctantly tore his gaze away from Yennefer to see both Lambert and Regis staring at him.</p><p>“Lady Yennefer does look beautiful tonight, my friend.” Regis smiled knowingly. “And I am thankful for her generous hospitality and grace in accommodating Detlaff. I cannot express my gratitude for both of your willingness to welcome him into your home, as it is my great wish to one day reacclimate him into society.”</p><p>“Anytime, Regis. You know how important you both are to us,” Geralt clapped his hand across Regis’ shoulder.</p><p>“Please, he was thinking about ripping that dress off her,” Lambert muttered.</p><p>“You’re such a fucking prick, Lambert.”</p><p>“Absolutely. Anyway, you missed my question when you were mentally undressing your wife.”</p><p><em>True</em>. “What was it?”</p><p>“Who makes the better liquor, Regis or me?”</p><p>“Regis,” Geralt responded without hesitation.</p><p>“WHAT?! What the hell, Geralt? You know exactly the kind of effort I put into my potato hooch.”</p><p>“I do,” Geralt responded. “Which is why I know Regis’ is better.”</p><p>“Fuck you, man. I just started adding elderberry essence to help smooth the after burn.” Lambert cursed.</p><p>“It’s shit, Lambert.”</p><p>“Blind taste test.” Lambert retorted.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Blind taste test. It’s the only way to tell.”</p><p>“Lambert, I promise you, Regis would destroy you with your eyes wide open. Your hooch is shit.”</p><p>“ELDERBERRY ESSENCE YOU ASSHOLE!”</p><p>“Geralt, friend, I am not opposed to a taste test. I have brought the Mandrake Root Distillate  with me as I know it tends to be appreciated in such settings.”</p><p>“Wait,” Zoltan said as he joined in the conversation. “Did I hear this right? Regis has his damn Mandrake Root hooch?”</p><p>“Oh does this bring back the memories,” Dandelion joined in. </p><p>“Fuck the mead! MANDRAKE!” Zoltan yelled. “Someone get the damn glasses!!”</p><p>
  <strong>Yennefer</strong>
</p><p>“Well, something certainly seems to have gotten them excited,” Philippa commented. “Now, explain this to me again, vampire, you somehow managed to save the other vampire over there at Stygga? How?”</p><p>“The process of healing another vampire is long and difficult, Madame Sorceress, but Regis is dear to me. I was only too happy to assist in his recovery.” Detlaff responded.</p><p>“But Vilgefortz…”</p><p>“I’ll thank you not to mention that name in my home, Philippa.” Yennefer snarked. “By the way, have you seen Eskel and Triss?” </p><p>“Oh, they’re probably out fucking somewhere. Triss still craves men at times, poor child.” </p><p>Yennefer’s eyes shot open. “What?!” she gasped.</p><p>“Please Yenna, not all of us are as heinously jealous over our lovers as you are with your witcher,” Philippa yawned and drank another sip of wine. </p><p>“Apparently,” Yennefer responded. Geralt walked by, his hands full with cups and glasses. “Geralt, what are you doing?”</p><p>“Taste test,” he muttered quickly. “Do we have any more glasses? And where the hell did BB go?”</p><p>“To get the mead you asked him. Geralt, be careful, you’re going to drop everything.”</p><p>“Good thing you’re a sorceress who can fix it all then,” he smirked. Yennefer just rolled her eyes. </p><p>“I’ll take them to Regis, if you please, Lady Yennefer,” Detlaff replied.</p><p>“Lady…” laughed Philippa.</p><p>“What did Zoltan call you when you were his little pet? Poppy?” fired Yennefer. “And thank you, Detlaff, that would be very kind of you.”</p><p>They walked into the next room, where Yennefer went to the cherrywood drinking cabinet to pull out their extra glasses. “Here, darling, the extra glasses are in this…” but he picked her from behind and sat her on the cabinet. She laughed. “Don’t you need glasses, or was this just some ruse to pull me aside, Witcher?”</p><p>He ran his hands up her sides, feeling the silky material of her dress, and wedged himself between her legs. She hooked them around his body and wrapped her arms over his neck. “Right now, I don’t give a fuck about glassware,” he said. He crashed his lips onto hers as she ground herself into him. She moaned.</p><p>“Ahem…” a voice sounded behind them. “Master Witcher?” Geralt cursed. </p><p>“Master Witcher, Lady Yennefer, I must apologize once again for interrupting you both but we have a problem,” BB walked up, face looking respectfully away, a few bottles of Mahakam mead in his arms.</p><p>“What is it, BB?” he groaned. He stepped away from Yennefer, pulling down her dress and helping her off the cabinet, trying to ignore his second unanswered erection of the night. </p><p>“The White Wolf wine Master Geralt wished to gift everyone for Yule is missing.”</p><p>“What?” Yennefer said as she brushed off her dress, trying to compose herself. “How? Geralt, didn’t you pick it up last week?”</p><p>“Yes, I grabbed it from Belgaard myself. How is it missing?”</p><p>“I do not know, Master Witcher, although it does appear it was stolen. The cabinet it was kept in was forced open.”</p><p>“Darling, I’ll take the glasses over for Regis and you research this. That’s a large amount of crowns for that wine. I would hate to lose it all.”</p><p>Geralt cursed again. “Tell Dandelion to meet me at the cellar.”</p><p>“You plan on asking him for help?” she laughed.</p><p>“Lambert and Regis are too preoccupied with this taste test, Zoltan is too drunk, I have no fucking clue where Eskel is (Yennefer chuckled here), Detlaff is still a little too untrustworthy without Regis to stabilize him, and I’d rather fight a hoard of drowners with a damn stick than deal with Philippa. So yeah, send Dandelion down.”</p><p>Yennefer pulled him in for a soft kiss. “Be careful, my love.” She trailed her hand down his neck, along his sternum, and to his navel, hooking it on his pant seam. “Don’t do anything too reckless.” She caressed his still hard member. </p><p>“You keep doing that and I’ll take you in front of everyone here,” he groaned.</p><p>She leaned into his ear. “Could you imagine the scandal?” she whispered as she bit his earlobe.</p><p>“Ahem…” BB interrupted again.</p><p>Yennefer laughed. “Go, Witcher. Happy hunting.” She winked.</p><p>“Fuck,” Geralt muttered as he watched her leave before turning to follow BB to the cellars to see exactly what happened to his prized White Wolf. </p><p>
  <strong>TBC</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The mandrake root hooch is in reference to Baptism of Fire and of course Blood and Wine. It's apparently quite the crowd pleaser </p><p>Zoltan called Philippa Poppy when she was an owl, lol.</p><p>And yeah, I can see Eskel and Triss too.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Art of Roguery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt listens to Dandelion on how best to find the missing wine. It goes as well as expected...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mamma Yen loves having her baby girl home....this fluff, I swear, who am I!?!</p><p>Also, I had too much fun with the witcher senses bit. Game players, you get me ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Geralt</strong>
</p><p>“So, you’ve decided to enlist my help once more, after all these years?” Dandelion laughed as he walked up to Geralt. “How long has it been, Geralt?”</p><p>“After that Crimson Avenger plot of yours, I knew you had finally lost it, but I need help carrying back the wine,” Geralt grumbled.</p><p>“That hurts, Geralt. And that plot was excellent had you not been such a cad and acted your role appropriately. Fortunately, you’re far less prickly now. It seems, against all belief, retirement suits you.”</p><p>Geralt smiled at that. It was true, retirement and life with Yen did suit him. “Come on, let’s find this wine. I’m not going to lose that many crowns.” The two went into the cellar, finding the broken-off lock that BB had mentioned.</p><p>“Looks like a broken lock to me,” Dandelion mused.</p><p>“Yeah, thanks for the stellar deduction, Dandelion…”</p><p>“What do you want me to say, Geralt. Use your ‘witcher senses’.”</p><p>“My what?”</p><p>“Your ‘witcher senses’. Lambert told me witchers can track so well because trails and scents and whatever highlight themselves in bright red.”</p><p>Geralt chuckled. “Dandelion, please tell me you’re not naive enough to believe that crap?”</p><p>Dandelion huffed, realizing he’d been had. “Are all you witchers such charlatans?” </p><p>“You were the fool to believe Lambert. How long have you known him? Bright red ‘witcher senses’....really Dandelion, I expected better.”</p><p>“Shut up, Geralt.”</p><p>“Well, luckily there is a trail to follow. See those footprints?”</p><p>“No, and I don’t care,” Dandelion grumbled as he folded his arms. </p><p>“Come on, my ‘witcher senses’ are telling me this way,” Geralt laughed. They followed the trail, which passed a shed. </p><p>“Geralt, listen, you hear that?” Geralt was so focused on the trail he didn’t notice the noise from the shed at first. </p><p>“Fuck Dandelion, well done. Stay back.” Geralt stepped back, ready to catch whomever or whatever was sneaking into his shed and drinking his wine. He remembered fighting the drunken katakan once and Toussaint was certainly a haunt of vampires, what with two higher vampires currently in his home. He kicked open the door.</p><p>“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Eskel yelled. Triss, who was at that moment plastered against the wall, legs wrapped around Eskel’s bare ass, screamed. </p><p>“I...uh...Eskel? Triss? Fuck…”</p><p>“Damn witchers and their sorceresses. It’s practically incest at this point,” Dandelion chuckled. </p><p>Geralt abruptly closed the door, looked at Dandelion, and they both started howling. </p><p>“I thought she was with Philippa?” Geralt laughed.</p><p>“You should know sorceresses have a different relationship with fidelity,” Dandelion mused. “After all, Triss was with you, and Yennefer with that one mage, what was his name?”</p><p>“I have you partly to thank for the Triss crap, Dandelion, and Istredd was another life ago, literally,” Geralt retorted sharply. “Now come on, let’s find that trail.”</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>Geralt was able to find the trail easily enough. The thieves had a wagon waiting for them at the edge of Corvo Bianco’s property, and the ruts the weapon left were deep enough for even Dandelion to see. Must have had a lot of weight in the wagon...</p><p>“How long does this tracking usually take, Geralt?” Dandelion moaned. “I’m not dressed for an excursion.” Geralt ignored him, following the trail outside his property.</p><p>“Fuck!” He cursed. There, smashed in the grass, was a broken bottle of his White Wolf. “Godsdammit,” he said as he picked up the broken shards. The etching of his medallion was partially visible in the piece of green glass. “50 crowns, gone.”</p><p>“50 crowns?! How much is this wine worth, Geralt?”</p><p>“Enough.”</p><p>“How much money do you and Yennefer have anyway?”</p><p>“Enough.”</p><p>Dandelion smirked. “I know who I’m coming to when I need new decor for the Chameleon.” </p><p>“Yeah, Vivaldi.”</p><p>“Geralt, what are rich friends for if not to borrow money from?”</p><p>“Tell you what, Dandelion; you can have the money if you can get it from Yen,” Geralt laughed. Dandelion just scowled in response. </p><p>Geralt looked down the path where the tracks lead: a building, small and unassuming. “Look, that building over there. That’s where we’re headed.” </p><p>“Geralt, wait,” Dandelion said as he grabbed his shoulder. “I have an idea. Trust me.”</p><p>
  <strong>Ciri</strong>
</p><p>As she neared Corvo Bianco, she spurred her black mare forward. “Come on Kelpie, almost home,” she whispered. At times she still dreamed of that magical little mare, lost to her in time. She missed the sweet horse, and hoped that wherever the animal found herself, she was well. She decided to name every horse she owned Kelpie in honor of her. And of course, to take after Geralt.</p><p>As Geralt had warned her, life on the Path had not been easy. There were monsters of course, but Ciri had more of an issue with the people. Witchers would always be seen as outsiders, but at least Ciri didn’t have to fight for every crown and florin the way Geralt had in his early days. Her contracts were often ridiculously lucrative, absurdly so, and it didn’t take long for her to guess the reason: Yennefer. Not that Ciri minded her mother padding her contracts and threatening to change the issuers to something unnatural should they try to cheat her daughter; sometimes having a sorceress for a mother was quite useful. She had done the same for Geralt, to a lesser degree, but still the same; it almost felt like a family tradition. Perhaps, in a way, it was.</p><p>As she turned into her family’s vineyard, her grin grew. Home.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>“CIRI!!” Zoltan yelled as he clasped her. “It’s been too long, my girl. When are you coming back to Novigrad?”</p><p>“When Novigrad can pay as well as Skellige and Kovir,” she laughed. “You guys are just barely better than Velen.” </p><p>“Ciri! Little Witcher, you’re just in time. Blind taste test.”</p><p>“Hey, Lambert. In a minute, I need to find…”</p><p>“Welcome home, my daughter,” Yennefer smiled as she walked up behind her. Ciri, as she always did when coming home to Yennefer and Geralt, threw her arms around her mother and breathed in the scent of her perfume. She wasn’t truly home until she was surrounded by lilac and gooseberries. “I missed you, Mamma,” she whispered.</p><p>Yennefer held her close, feeling her daughter melt into her arms. “I missed you too, my dear; we both have.” Ciri clung to her tighter as Yennefer carded her fingers through her her. “How’s the Path been treating you?”</p><p>“Surprisingly lucrative, not that you would have any idea how that would happen,” she chuckled.” </p><p>Yennefer smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m glad to hear witchers are finally being compensated appropriately.” Ciri laughed.</p><p>“Where’s Geralt?” She said as she gave Yennefer a final squeeze and pulled away.</p><p>“He’s dealing with some missing wine; he should be back shortly. Get changed and come join us. I had the laundress lay out some options for you, no dresses of course,” she winked. </p><p>Ciri walked to her bedroom, stared at the luxurious bed, and sighed in happiness. It was good to be home.</p><p>
  <strong>Geralt</strong>
</p><p>Geralt stared at the muddy ruts the wagon left in the path, his face a visage of pure disgust. “Dandelion, you can’t possibly be serious,” Geralt muttered.</p><p>“Tell me Geralt, how many bedrooms of romantic liaisons have you snuck out from? How many husbands have you avoided? I think between the two of us, I am the one most qualified to instruct in the arts of roguery.”</p><p>“You’re actually proud of that?”</p><p>“Priscilla has changed me into a better man, true, but skills learned in youthful adventures can still be applied today.”</p><p>“Youthful adventures? Dandelion, you were, for all intents and purposes, a whore. It’s lucky you’re even alive.”</p><p>“Ha! If that isn’t rich coming from you,” Dandelion scowled. “Now, shut up and listen again. They key to successful espionage is dark colors. You, with that pale skin and white hair, stick out like a sore thumb. That’s why you need the mud. Cover your hair and face with it. At least you’ll hide those snowy locks and white skin. Really Geralt, you’d think some time in the sun would help with that.”</p><p>“If you think I’m covering my fucking hair and face with that, you’re insane.”</p><p>“Fine, but you can explain to Yennefer how you were unable to figure out what happened to that wine of yours because you didn’t want to get a little dirty.”</p><p>Scowling and cursing enough to make even Zoltan blush, Geralt bent down to scoop the mud into his hair.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>Caked in muck and thoroughly miserable, Geralt left Dandelion near the main road to examine the building the tracks led to. He could see it was some sort of shed, conveniently situated far enough off the main road to avoid drawing attention to it. He slowly entered the shed, quickly examining the place for any signs of his crate. There, along the far edge, he saw his medallion insignia. Grinning, Geralt stepped towards it.</p><p>“Thief! Stop where you are!” Screamed a voice. Turning, Geralt saw four guards. “You walked directly into our trap, you scoundrel, you ruffian. We’ve been following your illegal wine trade for some time.”</p><p>“What the hell are you talking about? This is my damn wine. That’s my insignia.” Geralt yelled, pointing to the crate of his White Wolf.</p><p>“That insignia belongs to Sir Geralt of Rivia, owner of Corvo Bianco Estate. You, scum, are a thief covered in mud and horseshit. Cuff him!” At that, the guards stepped forward. Geralt instinctively reached for his sword, only to remember he never actually grabbed it before leaving the party. Refusing to listen to him, the guards grabbed his wrists. He knew he could fight back physically, but he also didn’t want to injure men over a case of mistaken identity. Leading Geralt outside, they placed him in the back of an armored wagon, next to a protesting Dandelion. </p><p>“You have the wrong men, you fools! We are innocent!” Dandelion yelped in indignation.</p><p>“You know, this is the first time someone has ever said that. We’ll let you go right away, good sirs,” the guards laughed as they shut the wagon.</p><p>“Great fucking plan, Dandelion. Great fucking plan…”</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>The raven watched curiously as the once white-haired man and the rather loud and high-pitched man in the hat were locked into the wagon. It twitched its head slightly, ruffled its feathers once, then took off into the night air.</p><p>
  <strong>Yennefer</strong>
</p><p>Lambert had been thoroughly destroyed in the blind taste test he was so insistent on having. While Eskel did admit that the elderberry essence made the spirit at least partially palatable compared to the swill he created in Kaer Morhen, it was nowhere near Regis’ perfected Mandrake Root. </p><p>As a result of the test, everyone at the party was now exceptionally drunk. At least they were having a great time. Lambert and Ciri were playing Gwent, Zoltan claiming he has winner. Philippa and Detlaff seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. <em>She always was more vampire than human.</em> Eskel and Triss were still shamefully close, Triss giggling like a Aretuza novice at anything Eskel said. Yennefer shook her head in disgust. To think Geralt actually fell for that once...</p><p><em>Geralt, where IS he?</em> Yennefer sighed. Ciri was anxious to see him and he had been gone a shockingly long time. Try as she might, she would still get nervous he would leave on a contract. If something were to happen to him, if she were to lose him...Yennefer didn’t believe she would recover from that kind of loss. She wasn’t even sure she would want to.</p><p>She wrung her hands nervously, willing him to come back to her.</p><p>“Lady Yennefer?” Regis asked softly.</p><p>She turned, smiling slightly. “Regis, how are you? I do hope you are enjoying the party. This is Detlaff’s first Yule gathering, correct?”</p><p>“It is indeed. I am glad to see he has taken to Lady Eilhart.”</p><p>Yennefer smirked. “Yes, it appears they do have a connection, though I’m not sure if that’s the best for your plan to sympathize him with humanity.”</p><p>Regis laughed at that. “Well, not all mages are as enchanting as you, Lady Yennefer.” </p><p>Yennefer smiled at his play on words. “How many times must I ask you to simply call me Yennefer?” She looked around the room once more. “Of course I apologize for Geralt. He seems to be taking quite a long time to return.”</p><p>“Actually, that is precisely why I am speaking with you.”</p><p>Terror shot through Yennefer like a bolt. Her breath caught; she felt sick all over… “Is he hurt?” she whispered, barely able to make out the words.</p><p>“No, no, nothing like that, Yennefer, and my sincerity apologies for causing you a fright. Geralt is physically fine. However, we may have a slight problem. My friend informs me he and the bard Dandelion have been arrested and taken to Toussaint prison.”</p><p>Dread gave way to confusion. “What? Toussaint Prison?” She exclaimed.</p><p>“Unfortunately yes, I fear.”</p><p>“Did you friend explain why? Are they here? I need to talk to them immediately.”</p><p>“Alas, my friend my not be the best at communicating that. He is a raven, you see, and while incredibly intelligent animals in their own right, they do lack the fundamental capacities to derive motivation and meaning behind human actions as intricate as law and order,” Regis responded.</p><p>Yennefer threw her head back in frustration. Of course the only “person” who knew what happened to Geralt and Dandelion was a damn bird. She looked at the party. Toussaint prison had been fortified ages past to prevent the opening of portals, so she could not get there easily. Fortunately, she knew someone that could.</p><p>“Ciri darling, I need your help,” she called out. “It appears your father has managed to get himself into trouble, again. We shall need to pull him out of it. Interested?”</p><p>Ciri smirked, eyes lighting up at that. “Absolutely.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>TBC</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Always</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hey, sometimes the ladies have to save the men! </p><p>And can Geralt and Yen sure throw a party.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a bit more fluff and sweetness, and ridiculousness of course!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Geralt</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Toussaint Prison, Geralt was unhappy to discover, had not changed much since his last visit a couple years back. True, he at least wasn’t serving time for failing to save a member of the royal family so his treatment was a bit better, but he was still there under allegations of expected blackmarket profiteering. It would not be easy to explain his predicament in a timely manner either, since the guards forcibly refused to listen to his protests regarding his actual identity. “Got any papers, Sir Geralt of Rivia? No? Well fuck off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was exceptionally annoyed when they removed his dirtied new doublet and proceeded to toss the thing into the rubbish heap. “300 damn crowns, destroyed,” he muttered bitterly. They handed him a roughspun cotton tunic and pushed him and Dandelion into the main holding area to await their sentence. Blackmarket profiteering was a crime punishable by death in Toussaint. Geralt grumbled as he stood there, next to a whimpering Dandelion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, they can’t do this to us! We’re innocent victims!” Dandelion whined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just had to suggest getting covered in shit and sneaking in,” Geralt responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The time for blame has passed, Geralt. Now is the time for action. Get us out of here! I don’t do well in confined spaces. And look, those rogues stole my hat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cost me 300 crowns, Dandelion,” Geralt retorted sharply. “Fuck your hat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dandelion? The bard Dandelion?” a deep voice from the dark ventured forth. It’s owner was a giant of a man, nearly 7ft if he was an inch, and Dandelion yelped in fear. He rushed behind Geralt, simpering inaudibly as the man ventured closer. “Are you the bard Dandelion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, save me…,” Dandelion whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said, are you the bard Dandelion?” The man stepped closer, teeth yellowed and mostly missing. His skin was pockmarked, head shaved, and Geralt had to admit he’d seen more attractive cave trolls. He cursed again for not having his sword. He’d have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>igni</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>axii</span>
  </em>
  <span> his way out of this shit, and then after he saved to the stupid troubador, he’d kill him for spite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt...please…” Dandelion was shaking at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you are the bard Dandelion, I beg you, a song. I heard you sign once, I love love stories. We all do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Geralt groaned. Dandelion immediately stood up, wiped his rough-spun shirt and stepped out from behind Geralt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why yes, good sir, I am the Bard Dandelion, patron of the arts and romancer of the muses.” Geralt rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jackdog, Skellin, Flitch! It’s him, it’s DANDELION!” the hideous giant clapped once in glee. “I’m LittleBoy Tomtom. Can you sing for us, Master Dandelion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you, my friend, a ballad.” Three other prisoners ran down from the top walkway to surround the bard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make room, make room! Give him space!” the absurdly-named LittleBoy yelled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What ballad would you lovely gentleman wish to hear?” Dandelion bemused as he sat on the stool, somehow managing to change from looking like a shaking kitten to a regal peacock in a shorter amount of time than it takes to finish a good piss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Witcher and the Sorceress!” the men cried. Dandelion looked over at Geralt and smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kill me,” Geralt groaned as Dandelion began to sing. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Dandelion had been singing for an hour, going through every possible rendition of Geralt’s story with Yennefer, when Geralt heard a familiar popping sound. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ciri</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He turned, suddenly even more humiliated over his muck-crusted hair and face. Ciri grinned widely, her eyes bright as emeralds, and threw her arms around his neck. “Ciri,” he whispered, holding her tighter. “You’re home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ve been arrested,” she laughed. “And you’re disgusting.” Geralt grumbled. “I have to say, Geralt, this is very unwitcherly of you. I feel like you’re possibly losing your touch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied grumpily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“CIRI!!” Dandelion cried out, jumping off the stool he was sitting in for the past hour and running to her. “Ciri, our little sparrow! Have you come to rescue us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I have, Dandelion,” she laughed as she hugged him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Yen know?” Geralt whispered, afraid of the answer already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who do you think is distracting the guards while I rescue you?” Ciri smirked back. “That dress sure did come in handy for this.” Geralt groaned, torn between the embarrassment of his wife and daughter needing to save him and the current rage building up of the guards ogling Yennefer. “Come on Dandelion, time to head back home,” Ciri laughed again as she stared at Geralt’s face. “Quick, before Geralt has a coronary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bidding a fond farewell to his fans, Dandelion took Ciri’s outstretched hand. In a flash, the three were gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant, they were back at Corvo Bianco. Dandelion clapped his hands. “Ah, I have once again escaped death in Toussaint! Geralt, why must you have retired to this place. It hates me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was hoping you’d visit less,” he grumbled. Dandelion yelped in outrage while Ciri laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, you’d better get upstairs before Yennefer catches you. You’re disgusting and you know it’ll just lead to more questions.” At that moment, a portal opened behind them. Geralt turned and sighed, shoulders defeated. Yennefer looked both men over once, up and down, and focused on Geralt’s mud-encased hair and face. Smirking just a hint, she raised her brows. “Too late for that, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking inside, none were prepared for the scene that greeted them. Regis was standing in the corner, muttering softly in a tongue no one could recognize to Detlaff. The two were holding hands, Detlaff’s head against Regis’ shoulder. They were both smiling. Eskel and Triss were in each other’s arms again, carrying on without a care, while Philippa was playing Lambert at Gwent. It was apparently a round of strip Gwent and Lambert was losing, terribly. He sat there in nothing but his smallclothes while Philippa remained fully dressed. To add insult to injury she had enchanted his clothing to take form and dance a lively jig on the table. Zoltan, to his credit, was dancing along, working hard to keep up. BB just stood in the corner, biting his nails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if this isn’t a Yule Party! Dandelion yelled aloud. “Where’s my lute? We need music!” The crowd cheered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I call the winner!” Ciri laughed as she ran over to the Gwent match, chucking Lambert in the shoulder. He scowled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer looked at Geralt, eyes warm, and laughed. “You, my love, need a bath. Come on.” She took his hand and led him upstairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p>
  <span>After she warmed the water to his liking, Yennefer stared at him once again and shook her head before whispering a small incantation. The mud that had covered his face and hair vanished, and Geralt at least didn’t feel quite so filthy. Embarrassed, however, was another matter entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How,” she asked as he pulled off his prison garb tunic, “Did you manage to get yourself arrested? I asked you to find our wine, Geralt, not steal someone else's.” She was chiding him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very funny, Yen. I listened to an idiotic idea of Dandelion’s. He said he was more skilled in roguery than me, and I followed his lead, and we ended up in fucking Toussaint Prison.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, you do remember that I had to save his life once when his ‘expert roguery’ landed him straight into Rience’s lap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously not,” grumbled Geralt as he grabbed her waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, not until you’ve bathed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So bathe with me,” he responded as he began to unbutton the dress she was wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, we have guests!” She laughed, though Geralt noted she did nothing to stop him from working the buttons down her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think they’re listening? Think they give a damn?” At the moment, the refrain from the raunchy ballad Dandelion was singing struck again. It was the one about the dwarf with the 3ft cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MY MEMOIRS!” They could hear Zoltan yelling, with a distinct “You wish!” from Lambert and “EWWWW!!” from Ciri. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess you do have a point,” Yennefer giggled as she traced a line across Geralt’s bare chest. Geralt finished unbuttoning her dress and it fell to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come’re” he said as he pulled her to him. He grabbed the lingerie she was wearing, intent on tearing it off of her like he always loved, but she stopped him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare, Witcher.” She lifted her hands and her lingerie faded away in a shower of blue sparks.  Geralt lifted her up, walked to the tub, and stepped in, setting her down so he could sit. She straddled him, running her fingers along his cheekbone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for rescuing me, Yen,” he whispered against her skin as he began to kiss her neck. He pulled her hips over his cock, feeling the closeness of her core. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always, Witcher,” she smiled as she shifted slightly and sank down on him. He groaned loudly at the feel of her around him. “Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“The constable will be bringing all our White Wolf wine back tomorrow morning. Apparently your wine is a hot item on the black market, and there have been reported thefts all over Toussaint. That’s why you were arrested. They thought you were the kingpin, if you can believe it.” They were laying in the bath together, Yennefer against his chest, coming down from the highs of their love-making session. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt grumbled, running his hands down her damp curls. “I still don’t like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You getting arrested or the rather helpful and informative guard staring at my tits?” Geralt scowled and she laughed. “Honestly, darling, be grateful. It worked, and no one had to die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like it,” he muttered again as he held her closer to him. In fact, the idea of any man staring and imagining Yennefer in that way made him feel sick with jealousy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m yours,” she sighed as she kissed the tip of his nose. “And you’re mine. Always” He smiled there, humming softly in agreement. “Listen, the party seems to have died down a bit. Shall we check in on everyone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a little bit,” Geralt grinned as he lifted her chin to his lips. “I’m not done with you yet.” He pulled her in for another kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The Mandrake Root hooch had certainly taken out the party goers. Detlaff and Regis were cuddled in a corner, arms wrapped around each other in peaceful slumber. Triss and Eskel were missing, again, Geralt guessed the shed. Lambert slept in his small clothes, snoring loudly, while Zoltan cuddled against the shirt Lambert had lost in Gwent. Dandelion and Philippa sat next to each other, heads plopped over on the other’s shoulder (Geralt made a mental note to make sure he was there when they woke up), while Ciri slept sprawled out across the table, hands behind her head and crowns around her person. She had obviously been the night’s Gwent champion. BB crept carefully around the drunken crowd, doing his best to clear glassware and food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Geralt, Lady Yennefer, you have not had the opportunity to toast the advent of Yule. It’s officially the holiday now.  Shall I pour you a vintage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, BB,” Geralt said as he wrapped his arm around Yennefer. “Let’s do the ‘68.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fine choice, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>BB poured their drinks and left them to their guests, snoring and muttering away. Yennefer just smiled and leaned her head into Geralt’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy Yule, Yen,” Geralt said with a smile as he clinked her glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy, Yule, my love,” she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they drank to another beautiful holiday at their home in the sun. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my canon as to what would happen when Geralt and Yen throw parties at Corvo Bianco and no one can convince me otherwise! I hope you all enjoyed! This was a fun prompt to work on. :)  </p><p>And now that this fluff is over with, TIME TO BRING THE ANGST!!!! Get ready, fam....</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Regis, my boy, I love love love love love you.</p><p>Also, Vesemir 😭😭😭</p><p>Also, when you read the angstfest I'm planning after I finish my main piece "For the Love of Canon", you'll want to come back to this one. All the angst will be there!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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